


Lux Aeterna

by CaptainSwank



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Blind Ignis Scientia, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, World of Ruin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:35:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22866448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainSwank/pseuds/CaptainSwank
Summary: Ignis has lost the light in every sense that matters: the light his life was made for, the light of his star, and of course his ability to perceive it. For a night, Gladio and Prompto will help him bear it.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum/Ignis Scientia
Kudos: 26





	Lux Aeterna

The sound of the glass canister shattering as it hits the tiled kitchen floor seems ear-splitting after the total silence that preceded it. Ignis purses his lips tight and attempts to count to ten, but before he can finish the ritual Prompto’s door has slammed open and he’s skidding into the kitchen. 

“What! What is it, what happened?” Ignis closes the eye he has left and tries to envision the scene before him. Here he stands, in stocking feet, trapped in place because there’s glass all around him but he doesn’t know precisely where. His only way out of this hopeless and pathetic scene is to be rescued by Prompto and— he hears a door open and close, and senses new movement in the room.

“Tch,” Ignis hears, and he inhales slowly through his nose. He raises his head and does his best to look straight at where he thinks Gladio is standing. When Ignis hears him speak again he has to turn his head from how off his guess was. “Again?”

“A simple lapse in focus, something of which we are all guilty from time to time,” Ignis says mildly, and bends down to start searching for the broken pieces of the jar. 

“ _No_ , you godsdamned idiot,” Gladio says, just as his fingers land on a jagged shard. He nicks his thumb which feels wet as he draws back. 

“Yeah, Iggy, don’t worry about it, we got this,” Prompto stammers out, and he can hear him shuffling around for a dustpan. 

“Thank you, Prompto,” Ignis replies tersely. “With your help, supper will only be delayed but a moment.” But he feels Gladio’s presence up behind him, and hears him grab the handle of the pan filled with oil that he was about to set to boiling for their schnitzel.

“Seriously?” Gladio asks, and Ignis isn’t sure what the problem is. He doesn’t feel particularly inclined to ask. “Looking to add some more burns to your collection?” He doesn’t feel particularly inclined to dignify such cruelty with an answer, either. “Who you makin’ _schnitzel_ for?” Ignis doesn’t want to answer that one too, but he does.

“For the two of you, of course. Should you prefer another dish?” Gladio wouldn’t turn down a meal, especially when it’s not clear to anyone how or when the next one will come. Ignis just isn’t interested in having this conversation right now. Again.

“Look, you don’t have to do all this shit,” Gladio says in response. “He’s not here to be taken care of. Taking care of _us_ isn’t your job.” Ignis can take a lot, but he decides in the moment that today he just doesn’t want to.

“It’s true he’s not here anymore,” Ignis says, and he manages to keep his tone even. “As I’m sure you recall, protecting him was _your_ job.” 

Ignis doesn’t have time to regret the words before he hears the feral cry from Gladio and another crash as the cannister’s twin joints it on the ground. 

“Gladio!” Prompto is valiant in his attempt to yell, but it ends up high and desperate. Ignis just stares impassively ahead at the spot where he _knows_ Gladio is standing, not even flinching when the tiny shards of glass collide with his trousers. He feels Prompto rush forward to sweep up the new debris.

“ _Why_ ?” Gladio bellows at him, and what follows is legitimately not what he expects. “Why are you like this? Why can’t you feel, why can’t you get _mad_?” Ignis smiles but there’s no mirth there. What truly hurts is that suddenly, in this moment Gladio doesn’t seem to understand him at all.

“You _presume_ to—” 

“Stop it! Just stop it guys, please!” Prompto begs, and Ignis can hear the dull thud of his fist connecting with Gladio’s bare chest. “Listen, just… listen! You guys are it, okay?” Prompto says quietly. “You’re all there is. All that’s left,” he continues. “And anyway, he wouldn’t… he wouldn’t want…” Prompto trails off and Ignis shuffles, not finding any glass on his way to Prompto’s back. Suddenly the tension wound tight between the two of them seems irrelevant in the face of the profundity of Prompto’s suffering. Ignis and Gladio could easily go all night, but Prompto’s felt enough, Ignis knows. Maybe Gladio’s mind is arriving at a similar destination, because he hears him heave a great sigh and the agony that’s consuming them seems to fade minutely from the room.

“I don’t like it when Mommy and Daddy fight,” Prompto protests weakly, working hard to heal them with humour as he bravely so often does. 

“What the fuck, why did you have to go and make it weird?” Gladio sighs, sounding somewhat muffled. Maybe he’s rubbing a hand over his face, and a small smile.

“Heh, yeah, that was kinda weird,” Prompto admits. “Sorry, sorry. Okay! Kiss and make up?” he says jokingly. “Kiss…?” Ignis presses up against Prompto’s back and leans forward over his shoulder. Gladio’s big hands come to grasp Ignis’s face, and Gladio touches their foreheads together for the briefest of moments before their lips meet instead. “Kiss!” Prompto repeats again when they break apart, and Ignis can hear the joking kissy sounds he makes before the noises from the real thing come from where Gladio and Prompto are pressed together before him. “Kiss,” Prompto finally whispers, up against Ignis’s cheek, and he slides his head slightly so their lips are touching, and draws away slowly, feeling warm.

There’s a different kind of tension in the room, now. Prompto can’t seem to help it, is squirming against him and no doubt Gladiolus as well owing to their closeness. Ignis presses forward to hold him between them, and Gladio makes a deep dark noise and seems to press in too. 

“Fuck and make up’s a thing, right?” Prompto asks, and Ignis can’t forget how he looks when he gets like this, eyes heavy-lidded and dark, with pupils blown. 

“Sure, kiddo,” Gladio says with a little chuckle. “Anything you say.” Prompto takes Ignis’s hand with a little squeeze and starts to lead him towards the bedroom. When they get there Prompto releases him for a moment, the guides him down on top of him onto the bed. 

Ignis straddles Prompto’s hips, with Gladio behind him, straddling too. Ignus rests his weight on his knees as he’s sure Gladio has done as well. Crushing Prompto is not part of tonight’s rapidly changing plans.

Ignis brings his hand up to gently rest against the side of Prompto’s face. They haven’t done this since before Altissia and Ignis wants it to be good, good for all them, something he can do to sate this endless need that’s bruising them all. But everything is different now, so so broken and disjointed, that he’s not even sure good this can be for _him._

“I _wish_ that I could —” Ignis can’t pull the words up and out of himself. Begging feels undignified, and regret, anathema. He could ask for nothing for himself; he would gladly have all his other senses scorched away to protect his king. But some small, disfigured, selfish part of him is ravenous for _all_ of these men, and Ignis knows he is doomed to forever starve.

Maybe he could tamp down and crush that savage yearning inside of him. While it’d always linger like an addiction, call to him like caffeine or his duty, perhaps he could learn to be satisfied with what the Astrals have left him. He’s not sure he’ll know what satisfaction looks like when he meets it, but he’s always been game to search for it.

He can feel Prompto shift minutely beneath him, turning his head a little to press softly into his hand. He can hear the quick hitch in the boy’s breath and he purses his lips and tries to steel himself against that dark ache inside of him. He won’t have the others thinking his burdens are theirs to bear— there’s enough thick black despair lurking about without him having to add to it. But at his back he can feel Gladio press hot against him, dipping his head down to rest his lips against the side of his neck. 

“Prompto,” Gladio says, and it’s rough and low. Ignis shivers at the honey richness of his voice and from the gentle catch of stubble against his throat. He feels Prompto’s body shudder right along with him as he makes a questioning little sound in response. “Pretty sure we can help Iggy out with this one.” Ignis can keep the dismissive scoff locked up inside at the cost of a quick exhalation and his head dropping heavy down to his chest. Prompto makes a noise like he’s been hit and presses his lips against Ignis’s palm for a long moment. “Prompto, you game?” he asks, and for once in his life Ignis isn’t sure what the plan is.

“A-anything,” Prompto says, “anything for Iggy,” and Ignis smiles at that. The bitterness he’s been weak enough to let burn through him is no match for the sweetness that shines through Prompto’s every word. 

“Good,” Gladio replies, and when he draws himself away Ignis doesn’t try and hide a small sound of loss, raising his head questioningly to try and sense why Gladio had moved. His need for them will be bared in its entirety tonight; no sense in playing coy about it now. His fingers had begun to trace mindless lines down the side of Prompto’s lovely face, his perfect youthful skin so soft to the touch. He caresses Prompto high on his cheeks and across the bridge of his nose and he aches. He’ll certainly require additional time to construct that cold wall inside himself, because Gods forgive him but he is helpless against the want that rises within. He truly _wishes that he could_ —

“Still got like a million of those little freckles,” Gladio starts, quiet and deep. “As freakin’ cute as you remember ‘em.”

“I won’t soon forget,” Ignis murmurs, and now he understands what the two of them are about to do for him. “Like the sky at night at camp.” In Insomnia, the city lights would wash out the heavens. “Like the dazzling stars in their multitude.” Gladio was well-read, certainly, but favoured an economy of language. Perhaps this might work: Gladio could sketch the outline of Prompto for Ignis to compose the finished work inside himself. They had a masterpiece before them with which to work, and Ignis dearly wishes to reproduce an adequate replica. He hopes Gladio is painting a similar piece for himself. When the world is finally plunged into a permanent dark, surely those darling marks will fade without the light to draw them out.

“More,” Ignis whispers, and he feels Prompto squirm beneath him, sensitive. This he can beg for, he thinks. The Gods have taken what he has freely given, and he will take what the men before him offer in turn. He strokes downwards, and as slow as he can he trails his fingertips across Prompto’s lips. Smooth and whole unlike his own, they’re soft and plush where he touches. As he traces their shape with adoration, Prompto can’t contain his nerves and his tongue peeks out to moisten them. Ignis rubs the wetness there and drags it down his chin, and Prompto makes a hot sound of want. 

“They’re so pink,” Gladio says. 

“An alluring shade,” Ignis adds. Now as he runs his fingers over his mouth, Prompto holds each one between his lips for a moment, leaving a tiny kiss on every tip. Ignis lets out a long slow breath, and slowly pushes two fingers past their exquisite softness. Prompto makes a high sound at the back of his throat, and allows them to push deeper inside.

“All of those freckles, now,” Gladio starts, pressing his chest up against Ignis’s back again. “You thought his _lips_ were pink.” He rests his chin on Ignis’s shoulder so he can look down and see every detail on Prompto’s blushing face. Ignis chuckles a little and the image in his mind is in vivid colour now if it wasn’t before. He commits to memory the way Prompto flushes when he’s aroused, or embarrassed, or nervous, or experiencing any one of those emotions that leave him looking more hopelessly delicious than he did the moment before. “And it’s not just his face that’s lightin’ up,” Gladio says, and Ignis nods with a smile.

The hand that’s not busy with Prompto’s mouth comes up to see if he can chase the heat that Gladio describes as spreading, spreading up to the tips of Prompto’s ears and down his warm neck and chest. Ignis’s touch lingers at Prompto’s throat and he whimpers around Ignis’s fingers. Ignis’s smile widens as his hand lands on Prompto’s chest, pressing down lightly on the warmth there. He feels Prompto wriggle beneath him and retaliate by stroking Ignis’s fingers with his tongue, sucking lightly on one, the other, and then both. The three of them groan in tandem as Prompto raises his head up slightly to draw them deeper inside him, pulling them into the loose circle of his lips up to Ignis’s first knuckle. 

“Fuck he’s beautiful,” Gladio whispers, losing it so soon. Ignis turns to show his gratitude, stealing Gladio’s precious words for a moment by pressing their mouths together, sucking on his lips in turn. For a moment Ignis feels comfort in his darkness, content to focus in on the feel of Gladio’s warm lips pressing strong but gentle against his, the wet heat of Prompto’s mouth around his fingers, and the feeling of Gladio rubbing against his back while he and Prompto grind against each other, slow and unhurried. Prompto moans around his fingers and Gladio draws back. 

“Your turn, baby,” he says to Prompto. “Like what you see?” Ignis draws his fingers from his mouth to hear his answer.

“ _Fuck_ yeah,” Prompto responds breathlessly, and Ignis laughs. He doesn’t truly require the details of how he looks while he’s sighing into Gladio’s mouth, but he’s hungry for more of what Gladio has to say. He had turned his head when he heard Prompto’s voice, but now he tilts it back towards Gladio with his eyebrows drawn together in a silent plea. 

“If his lips were pink before, they’re pretty much red now,” Gladio continues, showing rare mercy. “Slick and swollen from the slow fuck from your fingers,” he says, pitched far lower than even his usual deep timbre. Just those filthy words make Prompto cry out and buck up, a chain reaction causing Ignis to make a winded sound and flex his thighs around the man beneath him. “Bet you could rough ‘em up even more, huh Iggy?” Gladio says with a smile in his voice. Dignity be damned, Ignis lets out a grunt and pushes back with his shoulders. With a little _oop_ sound Gladio takes his meaning and gets out of the way, allowing Ignis to stand quickly to remove his trousers and everything beneath, taking up position to straddle Prompto again, this time much higher up his shaking body.

With his thighs spread around Prompto’s narrow shoulders, he grips his stiff cock, giving it a stroke or two before he gasps as he feels Gladio’s big hand come around it too, angling it down. Yet again Gladio’s pressed up against his back, breath hot and loud in his ear. He feels Prompto shift beneath him as he raises his head off the bed to suck a wet kiss against its tip. His breath catches, and Gladio pushes him forward a touch, angles him down a bit so Prompto can lie back against the pillow and just take Ignis’s dick as Gladio helps feed it to him. Prompto whimpers around it as Ignis pushes slow and shallow between his lips, moaning at the wet sounds of the mouth wrapped tight around him.

“Those baby blues are all on you right now,” Gladio says, resuming his filthy narration. “He wants to know if you like it too.” Prompto whimpers his muffled, frantic assent around Ignis’s cock. Gladio wraps his huge hands around Ignis’s hips and pushes them forward. “Go deeper,” he says, making Ignis and Prompto moan together. “He can take it.” Ignis lets himself be moved by Gladio, throwing his head back against his shoulder, and Gladio keeps whispering hotly into his ear. “His lips are stretched so wide around you, wet and red,” he says. “His eyes are closed now, those girly lashes long against his cheek.” _His hot, red, freckled cheeks,_ Ignis remembers. 

“It’s in so deep you’re pushing little tears out of him,” Gladio tells him, and Prompto is whimpering and whining with every slow slide now. “Fuck, if you push it in any deeper—” Gladio takes a second to collect himself. “If you push it in any deeper you can almost—” he moans “—almost see it in his throat—” With a breathy moan Ignis pulls out of Prompto’s mouth and slumps back against Gladio’s bare broad chest.

“A moment, Gladio, no more for a moment,” he begs, on a shaky laugh. “Desperate as I am to hear your no doubt delightful descriptions of my spend across Prompto’s lips, tonight I think I’d like to finish elsewhere.”

“Oh, you’re killing me here, dude,” Prompto says, panting and wiggling. “Or like, dudes,” he corrects. “I’m like two more sexy words away from nutting, two more words out of _either_ of you.” He wipes the wetness from his eyes and mouth and Gladio chuckles and helps guide Ignis off of him, removing Prompto’s pants and underwear as well. But Ignis doesn’t need Gladio’s hands to place his own on Prompto’s thighs, pushing them back and spreading them open as he settles comfortably between them.

“Sure hope that was enough of a moment for you,” Gladio says, and Prompto fakes a frustrated sound, mocking agony. “‘Cause Iggy, his cute little hole, man. Uh uh, don’t cover your face, Blondie, how am I gonna tell Iggy how sexy you look all spread open for us if you hide it?” 

“Iggy, I love you buddy, but I dunno how much more of this I can take without my actual soul leaving my actual body,” Prompto jokes. 

“You’re doing quite beautifully, Prompto,” Ignis replies, his smile evident in his voice. “I should think you deserve to hear how lovely you look like this,” he says, teasingly.

“You _guys_ ,” Prompto protests, but seems to drop his hands from his face, because Gladio hums in appreciation. Ignis is legitimately touched at Prompto’s sacrifice here. While he perhaps doesn’t have the level of insight into Prompto’s inner life that others may have had, the boy certainly wears his profound vulnerability and myriad insecurities on his metaphorical sleeve. Ignis doesn’t take for granted the gift that Prompto is giving to him tonight. 

He’ll do his very best to show his appreciation.

“Remember how it matches his pink little lips?” Gladio asks, and Ignis’s response is that of an animal. “It’s twitching for you, Iggy,” Gladio whispers to him, voice like gravel. Prompto gives a little wail but valiantly stays spread for them. Gladio gently takes one of Ignis’s hands and squirts a little slick into his palm. When Ignis dips a few fingers in it, Gladio takes him sweetly by the wrist and guides his fingers against Prompto’s waiting hole. He takes his time with it, rubbing around it in slow, patient circles, and Prompto begins to rock gently against him, making little _oh, oh_ sounds, breathy and high. When he finally slides a wet finger in, Prompto’s moan lasts as long as it takes for the whole thing to slowly disappear inside. 

“Fuck, he took that so well,” Gladio says, and Ignis nods silently. The hot clutch of Prompto’s insides grip him tight, and his cock jumps when he thinks about how it’ll feel to be buried deep right there. But he wants to know more. He hears rustling about him and what Gladio confirms helps illuminate the scene. “Those sexy fingers are clenching in the sheets,” Gladio says. “Toes curling too. And his face… Eyebrows all screwed up together, he’s working so hard to take you.”

“Relax, love,” Ignis says, and leans forward to kiss whatever part of Prompto’s leg is there waiting for his lips. Prompto giggles at the endearment, and as his breathing evens out it feels easier to slide his slick finger deep. Soon enough he can add another, and Prompto must touch himself here often enough that it doesn’t take much for him to relax around it too. Just to feel him squirm Ignis adds a third as well, loving the way Prompto’s voice goes hoarse for them. 

“Eyes are all unfocussed now,” Gladio says, and Ignis can imagine them easily, fucked out and vacant. Ignis wanted to have them as a respite from all this suffering, but how lovely it is to help take Prompto away from his thoughts for but a short time. Of course none of them would think to run, to escape from the roles they were born to play. But Prompto’s thoughts are so loud, so urgent, so all consuming that Ignis can always feel them running through his body like electricity, and it’s almost a privilege to make him feel so good he can let _go_ for a few short moments. When he pulls his fingers free from Prompto’s tight and clutching heat, he’s rewarded with something like a sob. 

“Iggy, pl-please,” Prompto manages, and in this moment Ignis could deny him nothing. They all work together, Ignis fumbling in his darkness while Gladio moves him with a sure grip, Prompto wrapping his legs around him to pull him close. This used to be one of Ignis’s favourite moments in lovemaking— rubbing his cock against his partner, watching in his face his desperation to be filled, and in the moment when he slips in, that look of aching, stuffed-full bliss. He closes his remaining eye for a moment to steady himself, and Gladio graciously steps in.

“ _Shit_ , fuck Iggy,” Gladio says when he presses the tip inside. “His eyes are practically crossed,” he laughs, as Ignis puts it in as slow as he’s able. Prompto’s noises aren’t even self-conscious anymore, moans stretching as long as each smooth in and out of Ignis’s cock. “Gods, he’s just about drooling for it,” Gladio says, and Ignis reaches up with his clean hand to play with Prompto’s slack mouth some more. 

“ _Yes, please_ ,” Ignis says, begging again, for Prompto to stay blissed out and for Gladio to not stop, to never stop telling him how good Prompto looks like this. He keeps his thrusts slow and steady and deep as Prompto shakes apart beneath him.

“Yeah, Iggy, he’s—” even Gladio’s having trouble keeping cool now, struggling between deep breaths and deeper moans. “—he’s tipping his head back, his eyes are, are rolling back, shit _fuck_.” Ignis thinks maybe Gladio has his hand on his own cock now, as he doesn’t feel it on himself, and certainly doesn’t blame him. Ignis carefully leans down, lowers himself down on top of Prompto, whose arms immediately come up to hold him close. He drops down on his elbows, and his thrusts get faster and harder and no less deep than before. “Fuck, man, the way he looks at you, the way he’s looking at you,” Gladio says. “Like you’re—” Gladio struggles for the words. “—Like you’re his…” he doesn’t quite find them but it doesn’t really matter anymore, does it? He’s close, but he needs to hear one more thing before it ends. He searches out Prompto’s rock hard cock and curls his fingers around it. Prompto wails.

“Iggy, he’s close, he’s almost there man, you know how he looks when he’s close?” He does, he does, Ignis knows, he’s seen it so many times, seen it for the last time already, but Gladio is here, Gladio is going to tell him. Going to tell him when his clear forehead creases and his eyebrows draw together, when his eyes are shut tight, and his pink lips are parted, when his body shakes and trembles and his blush reaches all the way down, when his pretty cock jumps and twitches and spurts hot and creamy all over his tight belly. Ignis doesn’t slow down after, keeps fucking him hard because he knows he loves it even after he’s come.

“Iggy, yeah Iggy, it’s _sooo good_ ,” Prompto moans, drawing out his words into hot, long sounds. “Please Iggy, I wanna feel you lose it, wanna feel you when you come inside me.” It’s all too much, all too much to bear, and Ignis is pounding into Prompto without seeing, or even hearing, only feeling. Finally he presses as deep inside as he can go and drops onto Prompto’s chest, clutching him as he rides out the last spasms of his climax. 

When he comes back to Eos he can hear Gladio above them, jacking his thick cock hard, and as his breathing evens with Prompto’s they lie together, sweaty and sated, until they hear Gladio grunt a quick _fuck_ and he feels hot drops against his side where he and Prompto are still connected, still pressed tight together. He rolls off Prompto, careless of the sheets and the mess. He lies on his back, sightless eye on the ceiling, and he hears Gladio’s voice, rough and breaking.

“His smile—” Gladio starts, but Ignis doesn’t need him to tell him. He lets his heart break for that moment, for that moment where the sunshine’s returned to them. 

Just like it will again, Ignis knows, when their king returns to push back the dark. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm neither a man nor significantly visually impaired, so I'm honestly sort of worried about the possibility that I've misrepresented Ignis's world to a potentially troubling degree here, despite it being very much a work of fiction.


End file.
